Cold rushed through his body. The pressure of the wind was unrelenting and cruel. Suna steadied his footing, and a sudden strong draft almost swept him away. He grunted, bringing his hand up, and dragged his foot forward.

  He could sense him. Nathan. The man who had his hope raised, only for the [Necromancer] to trample all over it.

  Is he dead?

  He might be, he was…

  Suna growled against the blizzard as snow blasted against his face, and he tasted the air of snow wind. Gritting his teeth, he kept going. Anger flared inside him. “Come on…” He built up Wind Veil on both hands, lessening the wind pressure in front of him.

  “We can’t keep going like this!” Wendy cried behind him. She and Jack used his body as a shield. Wind Veil allowed them to make progress, and Suna could tell they were closing in on Nathan. The man was not completely healed, but he was so close.

  “Suna! How much farther?” Jack called.

  “Just a bit more,” Suna said. Then he saw him, the [Berserker] was struggling as well against the cruel blizzard. But Nathan was able to walk; perhaps it was due to his class.

  The Berserker turned.

  [Undead Berserker. Lvl 50]

  Through the haze of the dark wind, Nathan’s eyes glowed green, and he began to pull an axe back in throwing motion.

  “Shit…” Suna muttered. He was about to summon his Galebow, but decided against it. Instead, he focused on his Brimhat and keeping his Wind Veil up.

  The axe was hurled toward him. It spun, cleaving through the heavy blizzard like a whirlwind of death.

  “Get ready, Jack!” Suna screamed.

  Before Jack and Wendy could ask any questions, Pyre Flame combusted around him, causing a sudden warmth. He shaped the flame in front of him, forming a shield of fire. The axe met the shield, rushed through the flames easily, and continued straight toward Suna’s head.

  Another shot of blue flame burst from the necklace, blasting the axe like a flamethrower. The pressure veered its trajectory, sending it spinning to Suna’s left.

  “Now!” Suna shouted.

  Jack stood with his spear already drawn in a throwing motion. The Tiefling hurled it in the exact direction the axe had come from.

  The projectile was consumed by the dark snow. But Suna did not intend to let it escape his gaze. He strained his eagle eyes, watching as the shadow spear pierced through a distant target, pinning it down to the ground.

  “It hit,” Suna said, his voice heavy.

  “Yes, I can sense it,” Jack confirmed.

  A strangled gasp escaped from behind him, someone muffling a cry. Wendy had agreed to take down Nathan; they couldn’t afford to lose the Spirit Rabbit Cloak. Besides, all of them had watched how the man's head spun and the bones in his neck cracked when that mysterious green wave of energy appeared.

  “He is down?” Wendy asked, with her voice stuttering. “What do we do now?” The despair beneath her voice sent a pang of guilt through Suna. He was well aware that perhaps there was nothing he could do. In fact, if he had not told them about the slow healing process, then Wendy might have suffered the same fate.

  He hated it when his mind refused to look at it objectively.

  “We hold until the blizzard calms,” Suna said. Nathan was still pinned to the ground, the [Undead Berserker]’s body already starting to be buried under the hail of snow.

  Suna kept up his Wind Veil, acting as a bastion against the snow for both Jack and Wendy. His eyes stayed fixed on Nathan’s figure. Maybe there was no point in waiting…

  Snow suddenly blasted apart. A wave of energy pushed them like a sickle. Suna grunted, managing to fend off the sudden burst of snow with his Wind Veil. A moment later, they suddenly found themselves in a pocket of calm air, at least around their bodies.

  The [Undead Berserker] shrieked, his voice rushing through the air and pushing snow away. Nathan’s roar must have been delayed to Suna’s ears thanks to the relentless blizzard.

  “Suna!” Jack screamed, covering his ears. “Go—”

  Hesitation built up in his legs instead of triggering Gale Step.

  Maybe there would be something he could…

  “Do it!” Wendy joined in. “He is dead.”

  Suna rushed forward, and snow parted in his sudden, explosive surge. Umbralline was already out of its sheath and ready in his hand.

  Skidding to a stop in front of the undead, he brought the dark sword down, splaying through the snow toward Nathan’s head. The [Undead Berserker] stopped screaming. Even while pinned beneath the Shadow Spear, he managed to spin and meet Suna’s sword with both of his quickly recalled axes.

  Suna pressed down, gaining advantage over Nathan, whose body now slithered with blood where the Shadow Spear was embedded. A furious snowstorm slammed into them, breaking apart the weapon lock. Suna grunted in frustration and prepared another strike, only to shift into defense when he saw Nathan swing an axe at him.

  He parried the first axe, knocking it back, and moved in to slam into it—successfully knocking the weapon out of the [Berserker]’s hand. The undead screamed. With a flick of his wrist, he threw his last axe in that impossible motion, catching Suna off guard.

  The axe’s steelhead crunched into his shoulder. Suna bit out a yell as pain settled in. Luckily for him, it was too close for significant damage, and the forced throw lacked power.

  The [Undead Berserker] tried to lunge at him, but Suna instead grasped the Shadow Spear’s shaft and drove it deeper, making the undead gurgle and stopping its attempt to rise. With a ragged grunt, Suna pinned Nathan down into the snow.

  He lined Umbralline up with Nathan’s head. The man’s eyes teared up, and slowly they lost their light. Suna drove Umbralline into the man's skull, killing him and freeing his soul for his next reincarnation.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  [You Have Slain an Undead Berserker. Lvl 50]

  [Rune Of Strength]

  [Level Up]

  [Skill option Available]

  Suna watched Nathan's corpse. A swirl of calm anger settled within him. It had never truly struck him—the weight of the undead until now, the imprisonment of souls, the display of them.

  The [Necromancer]…

  No, the System. The System was at fault here. It had planted this desire into the [Necromancer] and Delia, too.

  But unlike Delia, the [Necromancer] did not intend to resist it fully. It didn’t want to start a new life, a blank slate.

  If Suna left, then all of the dead would suffer the same fate Wendy and Nathan had gone through.

  This made the [Necromancer] his target.

  “Suna?” Jack called. The Tiefling finally arrived, with Wendy in tow. They covered each other, making sure to stay together within the blinding storm.

  Wendy's eyes widened at the sight of Nathan's corpse. Suna withdrew Umbralline quickly and sheathed it. The [Truth Maiden] fell to her knees, letting out a loud cry that was swallowed by the numbing cold air.

  Suna knelt too, placing his hand on his Rabbit Spirit Cloak as he removed it from Nathan—the man who would never go home again.

  --

  After what felt like a long journey back, they finally arrived at the small cave again. Suna immediately summoned an Emberwind Arrow, warming them up. He welcomed the heat; frost had built along his skin, burning like a cold fire.

  Jack and Wendy wordlessly stared at the arrow; both of them were in no mood for celebration. It had ruined the brief joy they’d shared.

  Suna's eyes flitted to the prompt. He read it and decided that he might as well choose now.

  [Nil’s Wind][Rare]—Flintwind Archer requires distance, but the battlefield is not so kind as to grant one’s wishes easily. Gather wind in Flintwind Archer’s fingertip and draw it to release a force of wind that knocks back any enemies that get too close to Flintwind Archer. Any effect of Spell Bow shall be applied to Nil’s Wind.

  [Distraction Arrow][Uncommon]—An archer needed to be most careful, but if they possess a power to fool instead of being at the mercy of their enemy’s pursuit, their options multiply. Shoot an arrow that will create a chime of sound intended to distract the enemy.

  A rare skill in the skill options. Had he gotten a rare skill from this before? Frankly, he did not remember, and he didn’t want to bother now, not in this moment.

  Suna made his choice. Nil’s Wind was the obvious one here. But one thing made him stop from choosing it instantly. There was no mention of an arrow… he did not have to draw one?

  Curious.

  He chose it, and it settled in his status.

  The same status given by the System, the one who created the [Necromancer] and caused Nathan’s death.

  His hand tightened around the Marrow Bow.

  “It's not your fault,” Wendy said, her head resting on her knees as she hugged them tight.

  The arrow’s light shone on her purple skin, casting it in a translucent glow.

  “I know that,” Suna said. “Are you alright?” he asked the [Truth Maiden]; it was clear she had taken this the hardest.

  “I will be, when we kill the [Necromancer],” she said, her eyes darkening despite the light from the Emberwind.

  Jack's mouth opened, but he shut it again.

  Kill the [Necromancer]... Suna did get angry; it was not just that, but the very thought of the entire world being run by the [Necromancer] was sickening to him.

  “Sorry,” Wendy sighed, “that was anger speaking. Please don’t take whatever I’m saying seriously for a while.”

  “No need for apology,” Jack said. “The [Necromancer] deserves death…”

  The Tiefling trailed off. Then suddenly, he jumped up, bumping his horns against the cave ceiling.

  Suna almost jumped himself in surprise. He and Wendy stared at Jack, who was mumbling some Tiefling curse about getting caught. “Too loud of steps…”

  “Jack?”

  “I got a quest,” Jack said, his eyes reflecting the ember, and a wave of determination burned within them.

  “Quest?”

  “We… we’re being offered this world, Suna. If we can best the Drow and the Undead.”

  Name: Suna Amor

  Level: 49 → 50

  Class: [Flintwind Archer]

  Rune: 126 → 127

  Feat: 23

  Mana: 11559/28690 → 12889/28750

  Pyre Flame: 82146.

  Pact: 2

  Class Skill (13/35)

  - Archer Instinct [Uncommon]

  - Gale Backstep [Uncommon]

  - Moving Shot [Uncommon]

  - Flint Draw [Uncommon]

  - Arcane String [Uncommon]

  - Gale Bow [Rare]

  - Spell String Mastery [Rare]

  - Hissing Volley [Rare]

  - Drill Arrow [Uncommon]

  - Still Form [Uncommon]

  - Saproot Arrow [Rare]

  - Emberwind Arrow [Rare]

  - Ashen Brand [Uncommon]

  - Nil’s Wind [Rare]

  General Skill (12/35)

  - Swift Draw [Uncommon]

  - Drowfication I [Rare]

  - Rune Seeker [Uncommon]

  - Gale Step [Uncommon]

  - Wind Veil [Uncommon]

  - Thermal instinct [Uncommon]

  - Enchanced Sense [Uncommon]

  - Enduring Body [Uncommon]

  - Battle Focus [Common]

  - Eagle Eyes [Uncommon]

  - Pyre Shield [Rare]

  - Pyre Flame Starter [Uncommon]

  Strength: 2189 → 2246

  Dexterity: 1565 → 1572

  Vitality: 1492 → 1498

  Arcanery: 2869 →2875

  Sense: 1047 → 1052

  --

  Smoke churned through the weakening blizzard. Ashes and the odor of burnt bodies had now become second nature to Slea’s nose. She breathed out, a hot, hazy breath swaying in the still, cold air.

  A wet slap of snow thudded beside her.

  [Undead Knight. Lvl 20]

  The Knight’s white hair fluttered through the hail of burning snow. When it noticed her gaze, the Undead lurched forward with its sword, lunging in a long jab.

  Slea clicked her fingers, and Flame flickered. An unseen power whistled through the air between them, stopping at the Knight’s neck. Flame burst through the Knight’s head. It staggered back, head burning, dying. And finally, it fell to the ground in a hissing crackle of skin.

  “Slea, are you done here?”

  Slea turned, seeing her master drag her bulky mage robe through the snow. The ground under Floundea melted because of her pure heat control, frustratingly, something she had not learned.

  “How long are we going to do this? Raiding villages,” Slea asked, exasperated.

  “We’re done. We will refuse the negotiation from the [Necromancer],” Floundea said as she walked past her, as if she had not just dropped a bomb.

  “Wait!” Slea skipped a step, almost falling, until Escanor's hand caught her.

  He offered her a smile, which she returned. The [Spearbearer] had chosen her as part of the raiding group along with him. They kept their group small so they could move much faster.

  “Careful, lass.”

  “Thanks.” Slea dusted off some snow that had managed to creep into her scaled skin. She growled at it. This stuff was very hard to clean.

  “Thiefmaster!”

  “We are going to the Ashen Castle. Slea, you’re coming. We’re getting the Human, James should’ve finished their training by now.”

  The others, the humans.

  I’m also one!

  The Tiefling had treated her like she was no longer one. And Floundea even told her it was better to stop thinking of herself that way, so she could proceed to the next class. The [Dragoneer] would be easy enough, but the [Dragooner] class would require her to give up her humanity and take a new race as a Dragon Kin, one she was not sure she wanted to take.

  Unless it's necessary.

  The others… Min, Reki, and Noa were all taken by the Third Thiefmaster James. Apparently, they did not meet his standard. And now they had found the perfect leveling place, which was the Ashen Castle. The [Necromancer] had offered a parley.

  But she didn’t trust it. Especially after the first negotiation attempt.

  She scowled at the memory.

  She had won that duel fair and square against that fat Undead elf queen. But the King was enraged and demanded her head for further negotiation. Who knew Undead could be so unreasonable?

  But this negotiation they currently had was from the [Necromancer] itself… and for the Tieflings to refuse so suddenly.

  “Why?” she asked, squeezing through the line of six [Spearbearers] of her personal bodyguard.

  “Why, huh?” Floundea smiled. The witch’s mouth turned into a full-on, wide, excited snarl. “A quest. The [Necromancer] will not trust us anymore, now that this system has offered us the world.”

  “What are you talking about—”

  “From now on, dear, it will be an all-out battle. Not between us and the Undead. But between the Drow, us, and the Undead. A three-way fight to decide who will own this world.”

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